


Thistles and Weeds

by Catatonica



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cute Ending, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Reader is an OW agent, Reader-Insert, Secret Crush, sweet talking cowboy strikes again, they're alone at the base, they're grounded, what do you expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27540469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catatonica/pseuds/Catatonica
Summary: Soldier 76 pulls you off an upcoming mission and you stay in Gibraltar - just like the infamous Jesse McCree. Supposedly you can't stand the cowboy, but there's more to it than that.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	Thistles and Weeds

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, so sorry if there are any mistakes! ;-;

Bored, you balanced the pen on your hand, barely listening as the commander explained the situation and assigned the roles for the upcoming mission. The briefing was more boring than usual and if Soldier:76 wasn't such a strict commander you would have put your boots on the table and leaned back. But woe betide the one who messed with the mysterious commander, then there was usually house arrest and so much punishment work that you were busy for the next three weeks.  
"Am I boring you?" Everyone suddenly stared at you, and you looked up from your playfulness with the pencil, scrutinized the annoyed faces around you, and froze at the impatient, angry aura of Soldier:76.  
"Not, Sir!" you replied and looked forward to the screen. The tactical advance for the mission was recorded there and you tried to make sense of it, but without much success. Which of those little arrows were you again?  
"All right, you're out," growled Soldier:76 and made a sweeping hand movement. "I'll take Tracer instead."  
"What?!" you shouted angrily and jumped up from your chair. "I have been looking forward to this action for weeks! I've been stuck in this stuffy base for ages-"  
"Silence!!", thundered your Commander and you immediately fell silent, but gnashed your teeth furiously. "If you feel like the briefing is unworthy of you, then you will not come. Dismissed."  
You stared at him for a moment, opened your mouth in protest - but denied yourself the biting answers. He was your superior, your commander, and an objection would be disrespectful and have serious consequences.  
"Yes, Sir." you rumbled and turned around and disappeared from the conference room under the gaze of the other agents. Anger bubbled in your stomach as you stepped to the elevator. You banged your fist violently on the button and waited for the doors to open. You just did a fantastic job, there was an interesting mission and you were stuck here in Gibraltar! To make matters worse, the base was virtually deserted, as almost all of the other agents were in the field. Only Tracer, Mercy, Hanzo and McCree were still there and now Tracer would take part in this mission instead of you. It made your blood boil.  
The elevator door opened and you stared into a familiar face, even if it wasn't necessarily your best friend.  
"Hanzo, hello." you greeted the archer with a friendly nod, but he just raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms as you entered the elevator.  
"You are angry." he remarked softly and you rolled your eyes next to him. Why were the Shimada brothers so good at reading people?   
"76 took me off the mission." you murmured softly and Hanzo snorted an amused snort. He knew about your temperament and your disinterest in the conferences and briefings. It wasn't the first time you had messed up a mission before it even started.  
"So you'll be alone with McCree all week." he said with a hint of gloating in his voice. "I hope that the base is still standing when I get back."  
"Wait, what?", you dug in, suddenly wide awake at his words. "You're leaving too?!"  
He nodded.  
"Genji asked for some help with the operation in Brazil." he replied. "I have accepted."  
"But- You can't leave me alone with this idiot cowboy!" you begged immediately, tugging at his sleeve. "Hanzo, please! This badly aiming poncho idiot is-"  
"Is what, exactly?" The door to the elevator had opened and you saw the hat, the poncho and the crooked grin. Your voice must have been too loud, because Jesse McCree had overheard everything. He looked at you, seemed to want you to finish the sentence. You pulled the corners of your mouth down and moaned in annoyance, while Hanzo could hardly resist a quiet laugh. Your tiffs with McCree were all too familiar to everyone in the base, you were really like cat and mouse. He loved to tease and your huge ego collided with his almost daily. Several times it had ended in fisticuffs, and in the end, you always ended up sitting with Mercy in pairs, getting patched up and scolded by her loud and clear. At times it had become so bad that Soldier:76 could no longer assign you to a mission together. Sure, it was unprofessional - but Jesse McCree was the biggest pain on the planet!  
"Oh, he's a really lousy shot, and even with a plastic pistol I'd have him on the mat in less than two minutes." you finally finished your sentence, and McCree snorted mockingly, one hand on his Peacekeeper.  
"Try it." he replied, and Hanzo immediately slid between the two of you, one hand on your shoulder and one on McCree's chest.  
"Enough." he said emphatically, giving the cowboy a challenging look. "Jesse, I thought we were going to train. But if you'd rather argue with her--"  
"You'd better teach that cowboy something else," you hissed and looked at the dirty poncho disparagingly. "Or he'll hurt himself on his next ride!"  
"Is that the best you can do?" he growled in return and tapped his hat. "Real weak - even for you, sweetheart."  
You immediately wanted to reply to the 'sweetheart', but Hanzo already pushed Jesse to the shooting range and you had no choice but to give him the middle finger and go to your quarters with an angry growl stuck in your throat.  
  


"A real tomboy, huh?", Jesse asked as he looked at you and Hanzo turned his eyes on his friend.  
"If you like her so much, why do you wind her up like that all the time?" the archer asked, entering the code to the shooting range on the control panel of the door. Jesse, on the other hand, was still staring down the hall, almost as if he hoped you'd come back and throw more insults at his head. "You know very well she's very hot-headed."  
"Yup, she really is," the cowboy agreed and followed Hanzo to the training area, which was located under the base and was used much more often by Hanzo than by Jesse McCree. "And a real beauty, too."  
Hanzo gave him a quick glance out of the corner of his eye and put on his gloves, running his fingers over the string of his bow.  
"You should be nicer to her," he said softly, tensing the bowstring a few times, pulling his arm back and staying in that position to warm up his muscles. "She has no idea that the badly aiming poncho idiot gets a watery mouth when he thinks of her."  
"Hah, you got me there!" Jesse confessed and pulled his revolver out of the holster, took a quick look inside and nodded contentedly. "She's a real eye-catcher, that girl."  
Hanzo didn't answer, but instead pulled an arrow out of his quiver and tensed the string, held his breath - and hit the mark. The easy-to-repair training robots were not real enemies, but they were enough to warm up. Hanzo took another arrow and hit the next head shot perfectly, as well as the third and fourth. Jesse watched the whole thing silently, took a puff from his cigar every now and then, and seemed to be a little lost in thought.  
"The mission scheduled for the day after tomorrow," Hanzo suddenly said, looking at his friend with a mischievous smile. "Soldier:76 has grounded her."  
"No way!" it fell from McCree's lips and he stared at the archer in amazement. So would you stay here at the base? While the otherwise eternally bouncing Tracer and D.Va were also in the field?  
"I guess she was messing with the commander again," Hanzo continued, watching as Jesse straightened his hat and threw the poncho over his shoulder, holding the revolver in place.  
"The day just keeps getting better and better..." the cowboy murmured, and he took aim, held his breath for a split second - and fired. Two, three, four and five robots disintegrated into a pile of scrap metal, while Jesse gloated over the coming days. Oh, this would be such fun!  
  


Two days later, you were sitting in the evening sun of Gibraltar in a bad mood, trying not to get too upset about the mosquitoes and the stuffy weather. The base was actually emptier than ever before and you tried with all means not to let your anger get the upper hand. Instead of sitting around here, you could be on your way to Italy right now - but no, you had to be stuck in that dusty sea of cliffs and caustic encounters with the cowboy. McCree was even more annoying than usual, now that Hanzo had left the base as well and apparently he was bored. The fitting of his new prosthetic arm kept him here with you, otherwise he would probably have flown to Italy instead of Tracer with Soldier:76, Winston, Reinhardt and some other agents.  
"Hey, beautiful." Speak of the devil. You heard the deep, smoky voice and the metallic clang of spurs behind you, and yet you didn't even bother to look up.  
"What do you want?" you asked coolly, but Jesse didn't let your dismissive manner get in the way, stopped beside you and took a deep puff of his cigar to blow the smoke into the evening sun.  
"Hanzo is not here" he replied. "I could use a substitute partner for practice."  
"Usually they have to drag you to the shooting range with force."  
"Come on, sweetheart, don't leave me hanging." he tried again and your stomach lurched once more at the nicknames he gave you. "Sweetheart", "Beauty" and "Love". This cursed, tempting cowboy would drive you out of your mind again! You'd love to sink your fingers into that brown hair and have him above you while he whispered naughty things in your ear in a dark voice...  
"Get lost," you growled instead and crossed your arms in front of your chest. You would never give in to temptation, especially not this man! He looked at every woman with growing enthusiasm, whistling appreciatively when she had a nice rack, and that pissed you off for a long time. If he was looking for a bed bunny after all, you were not to be had for that!  
"Do I have to beg on my knees before you?" Finally you looked up to him and under the shadow of the brim of your hat you saw two brown eyes looking at you with a provocative look. As theatrically as possible you groaned and held out your hand to him, which he immediately took and pulled you up from the ground.  
"Half an hour." you agreed. "Because I can't bear you any longer!"  
  


"Welcome." Athena greeted both of you at the shooting range and on one of the monitors your statistics from last time appeared. "The usual setup, Agent?"  
"No, Athena, thank you," you replied to the AI, looking at your training partner. "Standard, please."  
"Of course." the pleasant voice of the program was heard over the training area. Life came into the little robots and they began to roam around, ignoring you.  
"A special setup, huh?" McCree asked teasingly, and you waved aside, not wanting to tell him that you were planning on doing target practice at every opportunity.  
"Let's see what you can do," you said, leaning against the wall behind you. You didn't mean to start, no. If the cowboy wanted to practice, then he should start!  
"Hold this." To your great amazement you got the red poncho pressed into your arms and you looked at McCree, who in his tight black shirt pulled the gun out of the holster. On such hot days he didn't wear his bulletproof breastplate and the black shirt emphasized his muscular stature, letting you swallow briefly against your dry mouth. Damn sexy cowboy!  
"You don't have to undress right away," you hissed angrily and although you wanted to sound as annoyed as possible, your voice was much higher than usual. A quick sideways glance from brown eyes silenced you and you watched his movements closely. He lifted his Peacekeeper up and you saw him narrow his eyes for a moment, finally emptying all six chambers in one seemingly single, flowing movement. Six robots collapsed, McCree tilted his head and made his neck crack slightly. You had seen his extraordinary ability Deadeye several times before and yet, it impressed you every time. You could call him a bad shooter as often as you wanted, Jesse McCree always hit his target. The drinking, smoking cowboy with the silly hat and spurs on his boots was an impressive man whether you liked it or not. But you certainly wouldn't rub that fact in his face!  
"Your turn, beautiful." He threw his revolver at you and surprised you stumbled forward, the poncho in your arms and with noisiness you caught his gun. He nodded invitingly to the new group of robots that were just making their way in through one of the flaps to the workshop.  
"It's way too heavy for me!" you growled and threw his poncho at McCree in return, and he put it aside, but shook his head at your statement.  
"Nonsense." he replied, and just as you were putting new bullets into the chambers, he stepped behind you and looked over your shoulder. The smell of tobacco and the cowboy himself beguiled you for a fraction of a second and you took a step forward to escape from his immediate vicinity. "I'll show you."  
Shocked, you flinched as you felt a cold hand on your left shoulder and his real, warm hand gripped your wrist to lift the revolver.  
"You know I don't work with these bulky, heavy weapons," you muttered, concentrating all your efforts not to blush and keeping your pulse under control. He was much too close to you, you could feel his body heat and feel his breath on the sensitive skin of your neck.  
"Doesn't mean you can't handle it, huh?" you heard the smoky voice in your ear and his upper body pressed against your back. He lifted your right arm a little, corrected the position of your shoulder a little, and finally leaned completely against you to secure your stance from the recoil. "Aim well over the rear sight, you have no sight here."  
"I know...!", you hissed irritably and tried to concentrate on your target, but it was quite difficult to aim when hard muscles were pressing against your back.  
"You're way too tense, why don't you relax your shoulders?"  
"Shut up!" You pulled the trigger and wow! - this fucking heavy gun had a tremendous recoil! Your second shot even missed the target and a deep growl in your chest expressed your frustration about it. You rarely missed, but Peacekeeper was far too heavy for your untrained hands. Your weapons were all riffles like Soldier's:76, there was not such a powerful recoil as McCree's choice of weapon.  
A third shot was fired and you were glad that his right hand stabilized your shoulder. Distracting or not, his upper body caught you and you didn't have to take an evasive step back.  
"It's fun, isn't it?" you heard him ask and you almost looked up at him with an approving smile, but just in time you made the smile disappear and shrugged your shoulders. Stay cool.  
"I have to admit, it's quite entertaining," you replied bored in a playful way, but he didn't buy it. McCree leaned down a little over your shoulder and the tips of his hair tickled your cheek. He was too close, it was way too close!  
"Jesse!," you growled and turned from his grip instantly.  
"Jesse?," he asked immediately, and the rough, dark laugh sent a pleasant goose bump down your neck. "You've never called me that before, dear."  
"Yes, I- Ah...", you tried to find words and talk your way out, because the sexy cowboy was unfortunately right: You had never called him by his first name before, it just sounded too familiar and not hostile enough for your everyday dances. "Don't crowd me."  
"What, you don't mind a little help with the shooting?" Again he came a step closer and you looked at him suspiciously, pressed the revolver into his hands and turned your head away, trying to rebuff him as hard as possible.  
"Or was it for any other reason?" Jesse McCree was a charmer with a silver tongue, he always knew exactly what to say to either freak you out or leave you speechless. You were a seasoned Overwatch agent, a tough woman who could get her way - but when the cowboy got that close to you, your knees went soft like butter.  
"Jesse McCree-!" you started a little rant. You took a step towards him and nudged his chest in anger, while he looked at you with just two amused sparkling eyes. "Are you suggesting that I'm really attracted to a complete idiot like you?"  
He silenced you by leaning the last piece towards you, bending down and his right hand grabbing your neck. He kissed you, pulled you to him and after the first second of the shock you put your hands against his chest to push him away from you.  
"Jesse-!," you shouted outraged, but he shook his head and nipped your protest in the bud with another kiss. That damned, tempting cowboy actually dared to kiss you just like that - and then he was so damn good at it, it was enough to drive you crazy! The stubble of his beard scratched slightly at your skin and you tasted the cold smoke of his cigars, but that hardly bothered you, because even if you deliberately denied it: you wanted Jesse McCree to kiss you. You wanted to feel his hand on your neck, how he pulled you a little closer to his upper body and that the kiss became more and more erratic and unstable with every second.  
It wasn't until a faint gasp came over your lips that you realized what it all meant and you leaned back and escaped his lips.  
"Sweet as honey..." he growled softly and in return he received a light slap on the shoulder from you. "What, it's true!"  
"Idiot." you muttered and rolled your eyes. He snorted, pressed a kiss on the corner of your mouth and grabbed your waist with his left arm to pull you a little closer. You let it happen, and yet your thoughts turned over; What was there between you? What was the reason why he kept getting on your nerves so much?  
"May I be your idiot then?" he asked, and he leaned down, kissed your neck, and his free hand played with a strand of your hair. Good question, did you agree inside. Was that it then? Was he your not so badly aiming, poncho-wearing idiot cowboy?  
"Let's see how long I can stand you," you muttered with wildly pounding hearts and your stomach made a backward somersault at the thought that this show-off man seemed to like you very much.  
  



End file.
